>^ I ^ I I ^ 



I'llCf 



French's International Copyrighted (in England, her Colonies, and 
the United States) Edition of the Works of the Best Authors 



PS 3521 

1513 No. 289 

M3 

1914 

Copy 1 



THE MAID 



B Qomct>^ in ^ne £lct 



BY 
BULAH KING 



Copyright, 1914, by Samuel French 



NOTE. — Permission not required for production of this Comedy. 



PRICE 25 CENTS 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 WEST 38th STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 



THE FORTUNE HUNTER. 

A Charming Comedy in four acts, by Winchell Smith. The cast call3 
for seventeen males and tliree females, but by doubling- a number of the 
small male parts it can be played by eleven males and three females. 
Three interior and one exterior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2h 
hours. 

It is upon the advice and capital of his friends that Nat Duncan, the 
young fortune h«witer, decides to embark upon a wife-hunting expedi- 
tion. The scheme is to go to a small town and live very quietly for one 
year. The theory upon which the pursuit is conducted is that in a 
small town there is at least one girl who has a fortune. All the young 
men who are worth while move away to larger cities to maice their 
fortunes, but the poor girls have to remain behind, and those who are 
really above the average are forced to remain single, because they will 
not marry the riff-raff which remains, according to the theorists. This 
leaves Duncan with a clear field in any town which he selects. 

Duncan's experiences prove the theory. The village banker's daugh- 
ter really falls in love with him, and in accordance with expectations, 
it is actually she who proposes before the end of the year. But there is 
no such sordid end to the tale. It has been a part of the program that 
Nat should work during his year of residence in the village. He has 
found that work is really interesting, and brings its own rewards. He 
has become a successful business nian while endeavoring to win an easy 
fortune, and at the same time he has found the girl who can make him 
happy, and its does not happen to be the girl with the fortune. 

It is a charming, wholesome story, touched with tender humor and 
filled with Quaint philosophy, with just the sort of love interest that 
makes one glad to know about, because it is both pure and sincere. 

*' The Fortune Hunter " is one of the most successful ccmedies pro- 
duced in New York in the last decade. It had a most phenomenal run 
and is still on tour. Price, 50 cents. 

PEACEFUL VALLEY. 

A comedy in three acts, by Edward E. Kidder. 7 males, 4 females. 

This wonderful play, known all over the United States and Canada, 
had just attained its majority and is a classic of its kind. It made the 
fame of its author, Edward E. Kidder, and was largely responsible for 
the great success of tlie late lovable Sol Smith Russel. who created the 
part of Hosea Howe. It has been performed over five thousand times 
and is still In great demand. " Peaceful Valley " is a sweet idyl of the 
heart with three charming love stories twined about it. and throbs with 
humanity, bubbles with fun, and thrills with pathos. The " human 
touches " that round out the history of the brave, awkward, tender- 
hearted young fellow, who waited on the table of a summer hotel to 
earn the money to send him through college, his love for his mother, 
'* who has the whole of " Peaceful Valley on her mind," his adoration 
for the daughter of the New York millionaire, his flashes of awkward 
wit, his righteous wrath against wrongdoers, all make up a complex and 
marvelous character. Ten other quaint, hateful or lovable people are 
in the play; comic, serious, detestable, pitiable, and fine. There are 
over two hours of intense enjoyment and the play is clean and uplift- 
ing. Not a character in it is unworthy of being played, and all the 
parts are good. In the shadowed stage of to-day "Peaceful Valley" 
shines out a beacon light ! 

The play particularly appeals to college men and college women. 
The characters are so simple that they are easily played by amateurs. 
Price, 50 cents. 



These plays are subject to royalty whsn produced. 
Our 124 Page Catalogue Sent Free on Application. 



THE MAID 



a ComeOs In ®ne Bet 



BY 

BULAH KING 



Copyright, 1914, by Samuel French 



NOTE. — Permission not required for production of this Comedy 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 WEST 38th Street 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 



xaMs 






THE MAID 



CHARACTERS 

Anne A Puzzle. 

Susan Fresh and Breezy. 

]Mrs. Thorndike Hostess. 

Miss Cressy 



! 



,^- m I Estelle's Friends. 

Miss Tarr 

Estelle Her Daughter. 

Miss Chesterton - A Relic-Hunter. 

Mr. Brewster Ph. D. L.L. D. 



OCT 14 1914 

2 / 
Cl.D 38561 



THE MAID 



Time: — The Present. 

Scene: — The study in a fashionable summer home. 
There is a window at the rear with a window- 
seat beneath it. A door at left opens into hall 
and one at right into an inner room. An arm- 
chair with a reading table covered with books 
stands at the left center. A small round table 
at the right back; chairs, book-cases, etc., about 
the room. At the rise of the curtain, Anne, an 
attractive girl, dressed as second girl, sits in a 
heap in the arm-chair, engrossed in a book. Her 
duster and broom are near-by on the arm of the 
chair. In a moment, Susan, another maid, 
flighty and full of life, enters quickly and flips 
her duster in Anne's' face. 

Susan. At it again? Well I never! What do 
you think you're hired for — to read Shakespeare? 

Anne, (grimacing) Susan, you stick as close as 
my shadow. Can't you let a poor weary body rest? 

Susan, Rest? All you do is rest. It's me does 
the hard work, and no wonder Jim says my hands 
are as red as lobsters. 

Anne. Does Jim say that? (puts up book) 

Susan. He sure does. At the theatre last ni^ht 
he kept tellin' of the slender, white hands of the 

3 



4 THE MAID. 

dancer, and lookin' at me with them eyes o' his. He 
miffht ha' known she doused 'em with powder behind 
tlie scenes to get 'em white, and I kept thinkin' o' 
your'n all the time. How long you been hired out 
anyway ? 

Anne, {counting on her fingers) One, two, three, 
four 

Susan. Four what? Days? The cook and me 
both says you look like you was new at it. Marie 
says you got highbrow ideas about your bed, and 
hate to eat in the kitchen, and the other night you 
cried because your fork tasted of onions. Say, you 
ain't a princess in disguise are you? 

Anne, (yawning) Do you think I'd let a hateful 
alarm clock wake me up if I were a princess? Child, 
I'd sleep in luxury! 

Susan, (beginning to dust) More's the pity you 
ain't one. I see you like to sleep well enough. 

Anne. Cheer up. I'm learning fast, you know. 
(picking up duster and working) 

Susan. Guess you'll have to with the prospects o' 
company comin'. Mr. Brewster, Ph. D., LI. D. and 
lialf a dozen other D's has come for two weeks. He's 
tlie fellow what writes books, and Miss Estelle's 
dippy over him. I guess he thinks she's an L. O. 
P. H. by the way he looked at her this morning. 

Anne. For Heaven's sake, what's an L. O. P. 
H.? 

Susan. Left on Papa's Hands. Ain't that fit- 
ting ? 

Anne, (doubled up with laughter) Perhaps she 
won't be one now the stranger's come. 

Susan. Oh, go on. She ain't his style. He's 
after a highbrow. 

Anne. (interested) You don't mean David 
Brewster, the writer? Why, all his books are here! 
I dusted them this morning. What's he doing here at 
Mrs. Thorndike's? 

Susan, (stopping short) ' Why, Mrs. Thorndike's 



THE MAID. 5 

brother — say, he's a corker, no more like her than 
sugar's like sauerkrout. When he's here, it's heaven. 
Say, once he give me a book o' soft leather and the 
loveliest red covers. I ain't never read it cause it's 
on " Rhetorical Expressions of Speech," and that 
ain't in my line, but you bet I felt lifted up. I 
wouldn't speak to Jim for a week and he was some 
cut up. 

Anne. But what about the brother? Is he com- 
ing soon? (sitting on the arm of the chair) 

Susan. The brother? He's in foreign parts chip- 
pin' rocks to bring home to put in the cabinets. 
Folks says he's got a lot of brains. I guess he has. 
Anyhow, he's got all Madam's and Estelle's share. 
Well anyway, Brewster's an Englishman come over 
to see the country. He was stoppin' at the hotel until 
Mrs. Thorndike got wind of it and went after him, 
and Lizzie says she really begged him to come here 
just 'cause he's a friend of her brother. My opinion 
is, she likes to get in with the big bugs — (whispering) 
and don't forget Estelle ! Mrs. T's got a spare hook 
out for a son-in-law, and Estelle has got a dowery. 

Anne, (seriously) Is he that kind? 

Susan. You can't tell. Don't be alarmed, chick. 
All men like a heavy wallet, and he's the kind that 
wants a soft snap. You'd know it by the way he 
leaves his clothes 'round for me to pick up. 

Anne, (at the window) There they go now across 
the lawn. (half sorrowfully) They're going to 
play tennis, Susan — and this delightful morning! 

Susan. Really? Let's have a look, (pushing up 
to window) Look at the flannels, white and spot- 
less, will yer? Ain't Estelle a fool creeping along 
like a clinging vine, ain't she though? (Anne gazes 
loistfully) My, but Estelle does have the clothes, 
don't she? Did you ever see such elegant, white 
hands as she's got, all covered with rings? Did you 
notice them at dinner last night? Say, what's the 
matter, are you dreaming? Ain't you heard a word? 



6 THE MAID. 

(Both sit on window-seat.) 

Anne, (gazing at her hands) Would you call my 
hands very red, Susan? 

Susan. Didn't I tell yer they wa'n't nothing to 
see side o' mine.^ (turning towards window) Say, 
look at 'em now. 

Anne. (turning her head again) They look 
happy. 

Susan. Huh, Estelle dees, but she -al-jyays wears 
that grin. Fiddle-dee-dee looks glum as the villain 
last 



Anne. (rising, disgusted, and pushing Susan 
away) You attend too many gay vaudevilles, Miss! 

Susan, (offended) I'd rather do that than mope 
in my room smellin' burnt kerosene. 

Anne. I don't — I raze at the stars through tlie 
skylight. The lamp is always out! 

Susan. Why don't you get a fellah and come out 
with the crowd? The movies had a dandy show last 
night. Come with me some night, will you? 

Anne, (shaking her head) I'd never answer the 
alarm-clock, then. 

Susan. Say, if you're as lazy as that, go sit down 
in the avm-chair and rest. 

Anne. And do nothing? (beginning to dust) 

Susan. Try and look handsome. That'll keep 
you busy enough. 

Anne. Sh-sli — (raising her hand) 

Susan. Who's coming, his lordship? 

Anne. (tragically) I hear the rustle of skirts! 

Susan. The head of the house ! 

(Mrs. Thorndike, a large, haughty woman sweeps 
in.) 

Mrs. T. Are both of you girls needed in this 
room? Susie, go to the kitchen at once! 



THE MAID. 7 

(Exit Susan xcith a slat.) 

Mrs. T. (turning to Anne) Such a maid! Im- 
possible, absolutely impossible to teach her anything! 
I have the most horrible fear when she enters the 
room with my precious china. Anne, haven't you 
dusted? You girls waste the whole morning talking. 
What have you been doing.? I want Mr. Brewster to 
find this study a perfect haven of rest, and now it 
isn't even ready for him. Do hurry! There's one 
of his own books on the table covered with dust. 
He'd think I never read it! (picking up book) Who 
took this off the shelf, anyway.? I'm sure I haven't 
touched it. 

Anne. (turning) Perhaps — maybe — that was 
the one I was looking over. 

Mrs. T. You — you reading " Psychological Mo- 
ments in the Life of a Pragmatist? " (sarcastically) 
The very idea ! (Anne stares amazed) Oh — ho, 
wouldn't Mr. Brewster laugh — an ignorant parlor 
maid brousing, duster in hand, over his book ! Really, 
I 

Anne, (hotly) This is — is too insulting! (going 
to window and looking out) Then you don't believe 
we have brains at all! (turning) or even wish to 
learn ! Why do you diagnose the sociological prob- 
lem thus.? (Mrs. Thorndike drops hook) Do you 
for one moment assume that the masses have no in- 
centive genius.? Why, I am deeply grieved to find 
a woman in your walk of life ready to discourage the 
ambitions of tlie working girl. 

Mrs. T. (bewildered) I never could fathom you! 
I wonder who you are ! 

Anne. Don't wonder, Mrs. Thorndike, you have 
so much to think of. (dusting) 

Mrs. T. (half -stammering) I — I — you — finish 
this room at once and come to me for further orders ! 
(sweeps out) 
* Anne, (laughing , leaning against the books) I 



8 THE MAID. 

couldn't help it. It was too good, and such an oppor- 
tunity ! Poor i\Irs. Thorndike, she's a poor purblind 
bit of humanity, after all ! 

(Enter Mr. Brewster, a tall, handsome, rather duj- 
niiied man, carrying gingerly an elaborate vessel 
from which long wreaths of smoJce curl about his 
head. Anne stops laughing suddenly and be- 
gins to work.) 

Mr. B. Is there — have you a place for this — er — 

Anne. (hurriedly clears a space on the table) 
Yes, yes sir. (placing the vessel) 

Mr. B. (looking up at her) That table is quite 
safe.^ (with a smile) It's a very unusually rare bit 
of porcelain — I — I believe Miss Tliorndike brought 
it from India. 

Anne. (bending to examine) How very delec- 
table it is ! 

Mr. B. Delectable? (condescendingly) 

Anne. That's what I said. 

INIr. B. Yes, yes, I know (wiping his brow) but 
I wonder if I could endure it. (goes to chair) She 
thinks it will bring up inspiration — the only thing it 
will bring up is my lunch. As if I could write in this 
Bedlam. 

Anne. Shall I go out? 

Mr. B. (after a pause, during which he stares at 
her) No, no, you're no bother — whatsoever. 

Anne, (meekly) A few more books to be dusted, 
then 

Mr. B. (suddenly) Here's some right here, (she 
goes to the back) No, no, right in front of me! 
Have those been dusted? (with a smile) 

Anne. Perhaps not. But these surely need dust- 
ing, (pointing to his on the table) 

Mr. B. (smiling) My own — is it possible? 
Aren't these Mrs. Thorndike's and Estelle's daily 
diet? 



THE MAID. 9 

Anne, {demurely) I couldn't say. I don't wait 
on table. 

Mr. B. (aghast) No? You're just employed to 
keep the telltale moss off certain ponderous tomes 
on the shelves.^ 

Anne, (wide-eyed) Tomes? And what is that, 
please? 

Mr. B. (as if talking to a child) A book — a big 
book, full of big words — long words — hard words. 
You see? 

Anne, (changing her tone) Oh, I comprehend. 
A tome is a volume full of vast speculations in the 
iield of thought. 

Mr. B. (half -rising, amazed) Why — why did 
you ask? (looking at her from head to foot) You — 
indeed — you are a puzzle ! 

Anne. Most girls are! 

(Pause — he xvatches her.) 

Mr. B. You seem to take pleasure in being so. 

Anne, (humbly) Perhaps that's the only plea- 
sure I get. 

Mr. B. (interested) What in the wide world 
would afford you most pleasure? 

Anne. (demurely) To — to keep your incense 
burning, (points to incense vase) 

Mr. B. (confused) My — incense — oh — yes. 

Anne. You're not an adept at repartee? I dared 
hope you might say 

Mr. B. That you without the incense might be 
inspiration enough? (archly) How does that strike 
you? Perhaps you don't like flowery speeches made 
in your favor — perhaps you're not used to them. 
Have you — er — a beau? 

Anne. Do you mean a steady? (copying Susan's 
vernacular) 

Mr. B. (surprised again^ Why — er — yes, I sup- 
pose so. 



iO THE MAID. 

Anne, {gayly) Well, you see, there was Jake. 
He used to take me to the show, but there's so many, 
I can't tell which one I like best. Sometimes I think 
I'll put them up to lottery! 

Mr. B. (slowly) But that isn't right. Marriage 
is a serious step, and you must be slow and cautious, 
slow and cautious. 

Anne, (looking at him) And, I suppose, very 
discreet. And then there's riches — fortune brings 
such ease, you know. 

Mr. B. Do you long for a life of ease? 

Anne. (embarrassed) Well, you see, I'm dif- 
ferent. Servants never even hope for such remote 
things. 

Mr. B. (kindly) But sometimes they do, and you 
may be the exception. 

Anne. Oh, but the kind of man I want would 
never even look at me ! 

Mr B, (emphatically) Who in Heaven's name is 
the man who wouldn't look at you? 

Anne. (confused) 1 — I meant in the liglit of 
marriage. 

Mr. B. (rising, rather excited) Even so — don't 
you see you're remarkable for a girl in your class? 

Anne. Yes I do see I'm remarkable (backing off) 
for a girl of my class. I ought to be in the kitchen 
cleaning silver. (starting to go) 

Mr. B. No — no — wait. (he steps forward) 

Anne. But the cook has a temper — and then you 
know I'm not hired for this. 

Mr. B. What do you mean — by this? 

Anne. Talking to a distinguished gentleman from 
England. 

Mr. B. How did vou know I'm from England? 

Anne. You talk like an Englishman. 

Mr. B. Through mv nose — eh? 

Anne. Perhaps ! 

Mr. B. (laughing) But pray, why did you think 
I was distinguished? 



THE MAID. 11 

Anne, (gayly) Maybe I've seen your name in 
the paper, and maybe I know more about you than 
you think. We read the papers, you know, even in 
the servant's quarters. 

]Mr. B. (slyly) Many of the wits of the world 
are there! 

Anne. Do you really think so? (enthusiasti- 
cally ) 

Mr. B. (surprised) I — I was thinking of you. 
You're still a puzzle. 

(EsTELLE enters xcith a flourish.) 

EsTELLE. Oh, you're here, Mr. Brewster? (stops 
and looks from one to the other) And I've been 
searching the grounds for you. How can you stay 
in with all nature calling you? (exit Anne. He 
turns abruptly and tvatches her go) I thought you 
were a nature worshipper. 

Mr. B. (cooly) I happened to find a bit of 
human nature of more interest. 

EsTELLE. (an(jrily) Calling you? Has she had 
the impudence to stay and bother you? I'll speak 
to mother about it. (starts to go) 

Mr. B. (troubled) Don't trouble yourself. Miss 
Estelle — pray don't. 

EsTELLE. (crossly) Mother doesn't like her any- 
way. She acts so superior, and I'm sure I can't 
endure her. She's the most extraordinary thing I 
ever 

Mr. B. (inter ruptirig quicky) She is extraordi- 
nary, you are right. That's what kept me in doors 
all this morning. (boldly) Did you ever stop to 
talk with her? 

Estelle. (indignant) The idea — with a maid? 
Of course not. I've something better to do. If that's 
the company you prefer — (sits on window-seat) 

Mr. B. (sitting down in arm-chair) Miss Estelle, 
evdently nature has not soothed you this morning. 



12 THE MAID. 

EsTELLE. (rather ashamed of her temper)^ Well 
— that girl — I'm sick of her — and you'd be too if you 
heard as much about her as I do! She's upset the 
whole house. I hoped at least you wouldn't discuss 
her. 

Mr. B. (resignedly) I won't. Did you want me 
for anything? Can I help you? 

EsTELLE. (walking up to incense vessel) Oh^ you 
have it still burning. Did inspiration come? 

Mr. B. Yes, indeed! But quite a different kind 
than usual. 

(Enter Mrs. Thorndike.) 



Mrs. T. (suggestively) Am I intruding? Don't 
let me interrupt ! 

Mr. B. (quickly) No, no, sit down. 

(She sits.) 

Mrs. T. I'm waiting for Miss Chesterton. She 
will be here in a moment. 

]\Ir. E. And who is Miss Chesterton? 

Estelle. Oh, you ought to know lier. She's 
simply wild about you and has your picture in every 
room. 

Mrs. T. (shocked) Estelle!!! 

Mr. B. (rather bored) ■ I don't even know her! 
Who is she? 

Mrs. T. a dear friend of mine who lives here. 
Estelle and I first met her at Baden. 

Mr. B. Was she afflicted with rheumatism? 

Mrs. T. Oh, no! But she loved the scenery! 

Estelle. Why, mamma, she did have a touch of 
rheumatics. Women of her age usually do. She tries 
to keep young but you'd know she was over forty. By 
the way, some of the girls are coming over too. (to 
Mr. Brewster) More hero-worship. 

Mrs. T. Poor Mr. Brewster — I don't want to tire 



THE MAID. 13 

you all out. I reallj^ don't, but after to-day everyone 
shall be kept from the study — even the maids. 

Mr. B. (hastili/) How lonely the day would be. 
Honest labor always entrances me ! 

EsTELLE. (wilted) Mamma, I must match my em- 
broidery silks and get to work, (to Mr. Brewster) 
I'm not always so unoccupied. 

Mr. B. Oh, but I wasn't referring to you. 

(Anne comes to door.) 

Anne. Miss Cressy and ^liss Tarr to see Miss 
Thorndike. {exits) 

{Two girls enter. Miss Cressy is dressed very 
severely while Miss Tarr is fluffily gowned.) 

EsTELLE. {jumping up and hissing the girls) Oh, 
you lucky creatures. You've come just the right time. 

Miss 'T. Really! How exciting! 

EsTELLE. {leading the girls) Miss Cressy and 
Miss Tarr, Mr. Brewster. 

{Shake hands.) 

Miss T. {ecstatically) ^You can't imagine how 
enchanted I am! Why, I've been waiting for simply 
ages to be in company with a great man. 

Mr. B. And you. Miss Cressy, have you felt thrills 
of expectation? {sarcastically) 

Miss C. {bluntly) No! Father's a professor, and 
entertains all the queers. 

Mrs. T. Queers? My dear ! 

Mr. B. {smiling) She means rarities, of course. 

Miss C. {walking about looking at books) Well, 
rarities, then. 

IMiss T. {sitting down) How does it feel to be 
adored? 

Mr. B. That depends on who adores. 

MissT. {squelched) Oh! 



14 THE MAID. 

Mrs. T. You see what a fascinating creature you 
are to these girls, Mr. Brewster? 

EsTELLE. He doesn't half appreciate our affections. 

Miss C. (bluntly) Affections don't get you any- 
where. 

Mrs. T. You are so matter-of-fact, Janette. 

Miss T. Isn't she, though. Why, she would visit 
Romeo's tomb and not feel a thrill. Mother says it 
isn't natural in a girl, (to ^Ir. Brewster) Haye you 
eyer been to Venice ? 

Mr. B, (bored) Yes, seyeral times. 

Miss T. And floated in a gondola (rapturously ecUj- 
ing nearer') at moonlight? Wli}^ it's Heayen on earth. 
The wayes make the loveliest sound, and sometimes 
you can hear the music from the Palazzo. Mother 
says Venice is a spot for lovers. 

EsTELLE. (bitingly) But you didn't get one there. 

Mrs. T. There, there girls, your time will come. 
There's plenty of fish in the sea. 

Miss C. But half of us haven't any bait. 

Mr. B. (looking at each quizzically) And you've 
all traveled the globe? 

EsTELLE. It always seems queer to me that ser- 
vants have plenty of beaux. 

Miss T. But maids are so common. Mother says 
they engage themselves to a man who can't even buy 
a diamond. 

Mrs. T. We have an uncommon second girl. 

EsTELLE. (disgusted) Anne a.cain ! 

Mr. B. (interested) Yes? 

Mrs. T. (to Estelle) What is it dear? Am I 
making myself a bore? 

Estelle. Yes, motlier, w^lien you talk about her. 

^Ir. B. What were vou goino; to say about Anne? 

Mrs. T. Sh— sh. 

(Anne enters and announces Miss Chesterton. 
Exit Anne, enter Miss Chesterton, a spinster, 
simpering straight to Mr. Brewster.) 



THE MAID. 15 

Miss Ches, At last ! Do let me shake your hand ! 

Mr, B. (rising, mopping his brow) Charmed! 
Delighted ! 

Miss Ches. You can't imagine the thrills I have 
to be near you, how I've longed for this moment to 
come! (fumbling in her bag) Do let me have your 
autograph before I sit down ! I have my book right 
here, and I want you to start it. (girls whisper. 
He writes his name) I wonder if I'd be asking too 
much of you if I had one lock of your hair. Ple-ase 
do ! I haven't anyone's hair to wear in my locket, ex- 
cept Tabby's, my little pet. I have my scissors right 
here. (she draws them out, edging forward. Mr. 
Brewster draws back) I won't clip it where it will 
show, trul}^, — only right back of this ear^ 

(Mr. Brev.ster, backing off, bumps against Anne 
who is just entering with tea service.) 

Mr. B. (turning quickly) I beg your pardon! 
(forgetting everything else but Anne) Did I hurt 
you ? 

Mrs. T. (rising) Of course not, i\Ir. Brewster! 
How av.'kward of you Anne ! 

Mr. B. (to Anne) Have I spoiled the mixture? 
(takes the tray) Where shall I put this? 

Mrs. T. Right here, Mr. Brewster, (indicating 
table. He places it and Anne starts to serve) 

Miss Ches. Are you ready? Just one lock, please ! 

Mr. B. Oh, Miss Chesterton, I beg of you — I 
need all I have, (he hands^ her book) 

Miss T. (dismayed) Are you getting bald? 

Miss C. He'll be shorn if he has many people like 
Miss Chesterton after him, poor lamb. 

Miss Ches. But my little heart is so empty. 
(indicating locket) 

Miss C. (bluntly) And wants a few hairs to twine 
around it to keep it from breaking. 

Miss Ches. (ignoring her) But maybe I can 



16 THE MAID. 

have a button off your coat ! One right on the sleeve 
— It will never show, and think how I'd enjoy having 
it with me winter evenings. I'd almost think you 
were with me. 

(Stands gazing soulfidly at him. Anne passes tea 
cups.) 

Mr. B. (trying to pacify her) Have you some 
scissors ? 

Miss Ches, Yes, indeed, but please get someone 
else to cut it off. I'm so excited, and I might stick 
the point in you. (she jumps around excitedly) 

Mr. B. (takes scissors and hands them to Anne 
who is just passing his tea) Will you cut it off for 
me, please? (smiling at her) 

(Anne cuts off the button, the girls staring, and hands 
it to Miss Chesterton.) 

Miss C. Well, I never ! That beats all ! 

Miss Ches. (kissing it) Oh, precious remem- 
brance, more precious than any jewel. 

Estelle. Even a diamond? 

Miss T. (sentimentally) Mother says it isn't the 
worth of the jewel but the memory around it that 
counts. 

Miss C, Huh ! Queer sort of memory around a 
sleeve button. 

Mrs. T. (jokingly) I suppose you'd prefer the 
vest button, nearest the heart! 

Estelle. (sourly) This tea is dreadful, mother! 
Good Heavens, Anne, can't you make tea? 

Mr. B. (sweetly) Mine is delicious, and an 
Englishman is a connoisseur of tea. May I have 
some more, please? 

(Anne takes cup. He follows and talks with her at 
table.) 



THE MAID. 17 

EsTELLE. How can he say so? Why, mother, it's 
bitter as gall. 

Miss C. It takes gall to serve it too! 

Mrs. T. {despairingly) That's a pity. Some- 
times I think maids are the worst problem 

Miss T. Mother says they're the trial of her life. 

Miss C. Maybe she's the trial of theirs too! 

(Miss Tarr gives her a look.) 

Miss Ches. (trotting up and picking Mr. Brew- 
ster's sleeve) Oh, Mr. Brewster! Don't waste all 
your time at the tea-table. I'd like some sugar ! I'd 
like some sugar ! 

Mr. B. (passing it) Sweets to the sweets. 

Miss Ches. (simpering) Um — m — m — Sweets 
from the sweet, / think. 

Miss C. (gruffly) For goodness' sake, we'll all 
be bitter if such partiality goes on. 

Miss T. Oh, do sit down and tell us of your 
travels. You must have had an interesting life! 

(He sits down.) 

Miss C. (draxving her chair close) But are you 
happy all alone? 

Mr. B. (coolif) Are you? 

Miss Ches. Well — I have Tabby, but then, he 
can't talk. 

Miss C. But you make up for him, probably ! If 
he could, there'd be no chance. (sits on window- 
seat) 

Mrs. T. (moving up) Such remarks! I don't 
know what to make of you girls. Anne, get some more 
cakes. 

(Exit Anne.) 

Miss T. (to Mrs. Thorndike) W^here did you 



18 THE MAID. 

get your maid? Mother says you always have the 
best luck in getting decent-looking ones ! 

Miss C. Too bad you can't be one, Clara. You'd 
captivate all the guests. 

EsTELLE. (bitterly) Perhaps that's what Anne's 
doing ! 

Miss Ches. She has such a sweet face ! I could 
almost imagine her a relic-hunter at St. Thomas' 
shrine. 

Mr. B. (smiling) Helping herself to some of the 
jewels, you mean? 

Miss Ches. If she were sincere, that would not 
be half as bad as — well as 

Mr. B. (interrupting) Robbing a poor man of his 
coat-button, eh? 

Miss Ches. Ho — how you jest! You must be full 
of wit. (Anne enters) The other evening I felt so 
blue — all alone. I sat down to read one of your 
books, and you know it cheered me, and in a few 
moments I was sound asleep ! 

EsTELLE. Oh ! 

(Miss Tarr and Miss Cressy giggle.) 

Mrs. T. (trying to mend matters) I guess you 
didn't mean just that, did you? 

Mr. B, (feigning sorrow) You can't imagine 
how you have grieved me; Miss Chesterton, really ! 
Then I have lost one of my most fervent admirers ! 

Miss Ches. (half-crying) Oh, don't, Mr. Brew- 
ster. What can I do to recall 

Mr. B. (heartlessly) Nothing, Miss Chesterton, 
nothing ! 

]Miss Ches. Oh, someone help me ! Isn't there 
anything that I could do to take back my blunder? 

Estelle. Embroider him a pair of house slippers. 
(sarcastically) 

Miss T. A frilled dickie! 

Miss C. Red ruffled armlets! 



THE MAID. 19 

Miss Ches. Would any of those do? {much ex- 
cited^ 

Mr. B. {sadly, shaking his head) I'm afraid not! 

Miss Cues, (taking out her handkerchief) Mrs. 
Thorndike^ can you help me or — or even the maid.^ 

Mr. B. You haven't asked them. 

Mrs. T. I'd suggest you give back the button ! 
He may need it. 

Miss Ches. Don't ask that of me. It's worth 
more to me than a chip off the 

Miss C. Off the old block! (they laugh) 

Miss Ches. (unheeding) No, than a chip off 
Plymouth Rock, even ! The rock of our venerated 
forefathers. 

Mr. B. (boldly) Perhaps the maid has the very 
answer, (turning toward her as she is standing near 
tea table) 

Miss Ches. (turning toward her) Have you — 
can you possibly suggest something that I could do 
to win back his regard? 

Anne, (laughing) Don't bother yourself. There 
are plenty more shrines in the v/orld where one may 
worship. 

Mr. B. Where there are vessels of burning incense 
instead of one? (to Anne) 

Anne. But you don't care for even one. 

Mr. B. (earnestly) It's according to who kin- 
dles the flame ! 

Mrs. T. (breaking in) Mr. Brewster, have you 
seen my new vase of porphyry? 

Miss Ches. Have you one? I had an imitation 
one but Tabby knocked it off the whatnot. 

Mrs. T. (rising) My brother sent it from 
abroad — it's a very rare piece. 

Mr. B. I was with John when he bought it. 

Mrs. T. Do come and tell us about it. 

Miss T. How wonderful! Mother says it's just 
doubly interesting to have 



20 THE MAID. 

Miss C. Hush Mother s said enough this after- 
noon, for an absent lady ! 

{They start toward the door.) 

Miss Ches. Let Mr. Brewster go first. He's to 
be our leader and we'll follow! 

(Exeunt, except Anne. Anne gazes after him a 
moment, then wearily picJcs up the tea things. 
Susan rushes in with a telegram, wild-eyed and 
trembling.) 

Susan. (reluctantly handling it) It's one of 
them awful telegram things. (Anne takes it) My, 
ain't you calm — somebody might be dead ! (she waits 
nervously while Anne reads) Is it dreadful? 
(tensely) Is someone dead? 

Anne, (sinking in chair) No ! But for mercy's 
sake, Susan, why don't you frighten anyone to death ! 

Susan. What's it say? You do look kind of pale. 

Anne. It's happy news — at least it's meant to 
be. I'm going to leave you. 

Susan. Going to get married? 

Anne. Oh, no ! It's from my father — they're go- 
ing abroad and want me, but 

Susan. Abroad? When? 

Anne. In two days on the Cretic. 

Susan. Huh, how did you get passage? I read 
last night the steerage was full a week ago. Lizzie 
Tulliver's going back home on the same boat. Say, 
wa'n't to hear my news ? I'm going to leave too. 

Anne. Going to get married? 

Susan. Um-um. Jim has had a raise, and he's 
promised to save up for a home. 

Anne. Oh, Susan, what a pity. I wanted you 
for myself. 

Susan, (amazed) You ! ! 



THE MAID. 21 

Anne. (quicMy) Susan, do you really want to 

marry Jim? t j '4. i t 

Susan, (sitting on window-seat) I don t know. 

I don't want to be with Mrs. Thorndike all my life! 

I know that! 

Anne, (earnestly) But you wont have to be. 

Would you come with me? 

Susan, (laughing) Huh, where you going— home 

in the steerage and then work on a farm? The city 

for me ! ,,.77 j\ 

Anne, (sitting beside her and taking her hand) 

Listen Susan. I'm not going in the steerage I m 

going to cross the water first-cabin purely for 

pleasure. 

Susan. Well I never! Are you crazy? 

Anne. Not at all! 

Susan. Who's paying your passage? 

Anne. My father. 

Susan. Your father— yon told me he was a bar- 

^ Anne. No, I didn't! I told you he was behind 
the bar— he's a lawyer, (laughing) 

Susan. Well I never. Give me a fan. I always 
said you was queer— different like. 

Anne. If you'll listen a moment. 111 tell you 

something. ^^ , . m 

SvsA^ (indifferently) Goon! Nothmg 11 surprise 

me. Go on! 

Anne. I really don't have to work. ^ 

Susan. Oh, no! I should say not. You got tired 

of pink teas and balls, I suppose. 

Anne. No, not that. I haven't been to many. ^ 
Susan Well for Heaven's sake tell me what m 

the world sent vou out to be a servant, when you 

didn't have to! I'd see myself! You re queere? an 

I thought you was! » , . j '1. 

Anne, (gayly) I'm a kind of adventuress don t 
you see? I'm ^xious for all kinds of excitement. 

Susan. Has your pa much money? 



22 THE MAID. 

Anne. Loads of it. Come with me and you'll 
have the easiest time ever. 

Susan. Do you really mean it? What could I 
do? (interested) 

Anne. Be a — a kind of maid. 

Susan, (happilif) To you? Oh, lovely! I al- 
ways wanted to fuss over that lovely hair of your'n. 

Anne. Would you be very lonely away? — across 
the water? 

Susan. Without Jim? (c/azinc/ thoughtfully out 
of window) 

Anne. Yes — you couldn't take him. 

Susan. Come to think of it, I don't believe I'd 
miss him a bit. 

Anne, (rising, watching her closely) You won't 
marry Jim, will you? Please Susan — he's not half 
good enough for you. 

Susan, (thinking) I — I might get lonesome for 
him over there. 

Anne, (beseeching) But try, Susan, please try, 
at least, come for a while. We'll send you back if 
things come to worse. Will you try, please? (pause) 

Susan. Wait till I see him to-night. 

Anne, (sighing) But I shall be gone. 

Susan. 'Fore that? You'll have to tell Mrs. 
Thorndike and give her a week's notice. 

Anne, (amazed) A week's notice ! But — but — I 
can't — I never thought of that. 

Susan. She'll raise a row, and I'll have to hear it 
after you're gone. 

Anne. (quickly) Then come with me! Won't 
you please, Susan? 

Susan. But Jim! 

Anne. You can write to him, and after a while 
you'll know better how much you love him. " Mar- 
riage is a serious step, and you should be slow and 
cautious." (smiling to herself) " Slow and cau- 
tious." 



THE MAID. 23 

Susan. And you'll be with me a lot of the time? 
I won't be alone? 

Anne. I'll be with you all the time if you wish. 
We'll see all the great sights together. There's so 
much for you to see. 

Susan. And I've so much to learn, (wearily) 

Anne. (eagerly) You're willing to try? You 
won't marry Jim? 

Susan, (shakes her head slowly) I — guess — I'll 
follow you. 

Anne. I do need someone. Mother doesn't care 
for ruins and mummys, and father spends his time 
on the steps of the Bourse. You dear girl, won't we 
have a nice quiet time over there all by ourselves ! 
(clasping hands) 

(Mr. Brewster enters, Susan escapes. Mr. Brews- 
ter and Anne stand a moment staring at each 
other.) 

Mr. B. You sound very exclusive! Are you and 
Susan to have a little party all to yourselves, or what 
is it, may I ask? 

Anne, (shyly from against the wall) Not a party. 
Something that lasts much longer than that. We are 
going abroad ! 

Mr. B. (becomes serious immediately) Abroad! 
And soon? 

Anne. In two days — I leave to-night. 

Mr. B. To try your luck there? 

Anne, (demurely, changing tone to one of light- 
ness) Just for pleasure. Father thought I needed a 
rest, and — well, Switzerland seemed the best health 
resort. 

Mr. B. (smiling) You're playing with me again. 
You needn't try to prove you're a puzzle. Don't play 
with me! (abruptly) I'm serious — I really — (grow- 
ing very serious) 

Anne, (backing off) Why should you be? 



24 THE MAID. 

Mr. B. Maybe I feel sorry because you're going 
away! 

Anne, (feigning coolness) Has my service meant 
all that to you.'' 

Mr. B. (impatiently) Oh^ you know I don't mean 
that! I've never thought of you in that light at all. 
Anne, I love you ! Don't go abroad, (walking toward 
her) but wait • 

Anne. I — I must! 

Mr. B. Then you don't care to wait — you don't — 
love me? 

Anne. I — I haven't — I haven't had time to — to 
know. 

Mr. B. Then don't go away till you do. 

Anne. Stay here? Stay at Mrs. Thorndike's? 

Mr. B. Why of course not. Go — er — have you a 
home, parents? 

Anne. Both are living, but in New York. 

Mr. B. (earnestly) Couldn't you go to them, and 
maybe in a day or two you'll know, and I'll come to 
you there for your answer. Are you sure — quite sure 
you can't decide here — now? 

Anne, (slowly) Maybe I could — I made Susan — 
a moment ago. (smiling) Yes, I think I can. 

Mr. B. (eagerly) Do — please! 

Anne, (backing off) But you are such a great 
man and I'm nothing — nothing but a humble — (he 
clasps her in his arms) 

Mr. B. As if that mattered, sweetheart ! 

(Enter Mrs. Thorndike flurried, waving a paper 
wildly. They break apart.) 

Mrs. T. What ! Well this is a day of surprises ! 
I want you to account for yourself, young lady. 

Mr. B. Don't be alarmed, Mrs. Thorndike, pray 
don't. 

Mrs. T. Alarmed ! ! ! I don't know what to ex- 
pect next in this house ! 



THE MAID. 25 

Mr. B. There's nothing more to expect, Mrs. 
Thorndike, everything's settled. 

Mrs. T. (sinking in chair) Well I never! And 
may I know the plans .> It seems I ought to have a 
share since all this has happened in my house. I'm 
even more alarmed than when I saw this, (pointing 
to paper) Come here, both of you, and you, Miss 
Anne, kindly explain yourself, (they gather around 
the paper) What does this mean — your picture in 
the paper — and you Judge Moorings daughter? 
What are you doing here? 
Anne. I — I — (nervously) 

Mrs. T. The idea! I believe you've been schem- 
ing against me. You sly girl! And now you'll tell 
everyone how I've treated you. It's abominable. 
Mr. B. (laughing) Does your conscience prick? 
Mrs. T. (more pleasantly) My conscience never 
pricks me ! I'm noted for my kindness to maids and 
dumb animals. I'm sure Anne couldn't have found a 
pleasanter place to experiment in, nor a more affable 
mistress. Anne can see for herself how all the 
maids respect me and love to be able to do even the 
smallest thing for me. You've noticed Susan, per- 
haps, my dear, liow her face lights up when I enter 
the room. If that isn't proof of my kindness, what 
is? (Anne smiles across to Mr. B., as Mrs. T. sits 
hack complacently in her chair) If I had had a 
notion that you were experimenting and studying 
servant problems from my kitchen, what would I have 
done ? 

Anne. I didn't choose your particular kitchen, 
Mrs. Thorndike. I was sent here by — by — by the 
employment bureau. 

Mrs. T. What would I think to let Estelle dabble 
her hands in dust and dishwater, just to study com- 
mon servants. It would break her dear heart and 
mine. That wasn't all. I begin to believe you two 
had plans all made, didn't you? Mr. Brewster, you 



26 THE MAID. 

have known Miss Mooring before, haven't you? 
That's why you came here? 

Mr. B. (smiling) But I came here because of 
your very urgent invitation. Upon my honor, I never 
knew Anne until I met her in your study, as — a — a 
maid. I am as surprised as you, I assure you. 

Mrs. T. (puzzled) But — -but I thought I saw you 
kissing her ! 

Mr. B. You did ! 

Mrs. T. (with shocked ejcpression) But — but 
how could you ask her to marry you — when you 
thought her a maid? 

Mr. B. (smiling happily) Love breaks all barriers, 
Mrs. Thorndike. 

Mrs. T. (rises and smiles sweetly on them both 
as they sit together on the window-seat) I've intruded 
long enough. I assure you, I wouldn't have come in 
if I'd known what was happening here. I suppose 
my news has made you all the happier, Mr. Brewster. 
(she takes Anne's hand in hers) My dear Miss 
Mooring, I hope you'll be very happy, (shakes her 
finger in Anne's face) But don't tell tales out of 
school, will you? (her expression saddens, as she 
leaves the room. Aside) Poor Estelle, how I hate to 
tell her! 

Mr. B. (standing before Anne) Where did you 
say you were going with Susan? I had visions of a 
picture show, really ! 

Anne, (laughing) You wouldn't believe me when 
I said I was going abroad. 

Mr. B. But I do now. You'll wait and go with 
me. To think I had to travel the globe to find you! 

Anne, (rather seriously) But there's Susan 

Mr. B. Yes, Susan — you promised to take her 
with you, didn't you? 

Anne. I wanted Susan to go so badly. Poor girl, 
what a hard life she's had. But still she's always 
bright and happy. She was going to marry Jim, but 



THE MAID. 27 

I tliought she didn't love him enough. Their acquain- 
tance has been so brief, too. 

Mr. B. (teasingly) Briefer than a flay? 

Anne, (laughing, as he kisses her) You're right. 
I see now I shan't influence Susan any more, for after 
all, ruins and museums aren't as nice as husbands. 

CURTAIN. 



HER LORD AND MASTER. 

A Comedy in Three Acts, by Martha Morton . Six males, five females. 
Costumes modem. One interior and one exterior scene. Plays a full 
evening:. 

Miss Morton has furnishpd the stag-e with some very entertaining 
comedies, and this is one of her best. The i»lot concerns the marriage 
of an Amp-rican firl 1o an Engrlisli Viscount- In the oi-igrinal produc- 
tion Miss Effle Shannon played the girl and Mr. Herbert Kelcey played 
the Viscount. Price, 50 cents. 

A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE. 

A Comedy in Four Acts, by Martha Morton. Seven males, four 
females. Costumes modern. Three interior scenes. Plais a full 
evening'. 

This is the celebrated comedy produced by Mr. Sol Smith Russell for 
so many years with great success. Mr. Russell played the part of David 
Holmes, a quaint, odd character. He Is a bachelor, country editor and 
literary critic, so absorbed in his work that the outside world has little 
Interest for him. In fact, he has even overlooked the circumstance 
that his ward, Sylvia, who lives with a maiden aunt, has outgrown 
childhood, and he still sends her dolls and other toys as presents. 

When, however, this oversight is made clear to him by the arrival of 
the young woman herself a change comes over his life. The critical 
sanctum grows too narrow for him and his interest in her leads him out 
into the world. And now the man who has lived in a world of the mind 
learns that there is a world of the heart, for he comes to regard his 
charming ward with feelings more tender than those of fatherly inter- 
est. But his sense of honor forbids him to disclose these. Nor does he 
Imagine for a moment that she, charming girl, could become interested 
in him, a crusty old bachelor. At last, however, an attempt on his 
part to arrange a suitable marriage for her leads to the disclosure that 
she loves him. Miss Annie Russell played Sylvia in the original New 
York production. Price, 50 cents. 



NIOBE. 



A Fantastic Comedy in Three Acts. Five males, seven females. The 
comedy by Harry and Edward Paulton is peculiarly suited to the use 
of schools and colleges, containing as it does much humor, only fully 
appreciated by those in the course of their classical studies. The play 
bristles with allusions mythological and historical, which only serve to 
set off the excessive modernity of the work as a whole. 

The story concerns itself with the revivification of the statue of Niobe, 
who was turned into stone by Phoebus and Artemis, who wearied of her 
incessant tears for her lost children. The statue is in the keeping of 
Peter Amos Dunn, an Insurance broker, and comes to life while his 
family are at the theatre seeing Pygmalion and Galatea, 

Hopeless of convincing his wife of the truth of the story of the statue's 
animation, he introduces Niobe as the new governess they are expect- 
ing and the situation thus set up is the beginning of many perplexities 
and endless laughter. Niobe is what is known as a sure-fire laugh pro- 
ducer and contains many good almost self-acting parts — that of Niobe 
being especially effective with its combination of queenly majesty and 
naivete in the midst of her modern surroundings. Price, 50 cents. 

THE SUPERIOR MISS PELLENDER. 

An original comedy in three acts, by Sidney Bowkett. 2 males, 4 
females. Costumes modern. 1 exterior, 1 interior scene. Time, 2 
hours. 

A gentle, amiable widow-mother is Mrs. Pellender. Each member of 
her family is strongly characteristic. Edith, a malade imaginalre; 
Nancy, a tom-boy; Noel, a mischievous youth: and the superior Mis^s 
Pellender, as crisp as a biscuit, sharp as a knife, and the terror of the 
family. The mother falls in love with a diffident gentleman named 
Tlster. but to break the news to her unsparing child she feels the great- 
est reluctance. She and her fiance are quite unable to muster sufficient 
courage to "confess," and, in ultimate desperation, they elope, leaving 
a note behind explaining. 

This is a clever, high-class comedy, particularly suited to production 
by girls' schools and colleges, and it should prove a great success wher- 
ever produced. It was originally produced at The Playhouse, London, 
with Mr. Cyril Maude in the role of Mr. Tister. Price, 50 cents. 



These pi ays are subject to royalty when produced. 
Our 124 Page Catalogue Sent Free on Application. 



■iiiiil 

JUST PUBLISHI illlilll™"!''^;^^^^^^ ^^g ^ 

"STRONGHEART" 

WILLIAM C. de MILLE'S GREAT AMERICAN COMEDY DRAMA 

ITn 3fout acts 



The story of " STRONGHEART. " is that of an Indian, named Strong- 
heart ; the son of a chief, who has been sent by his tribe to Oarlysle, and 
then to Columbia, that lie may return and impart the wisdom of thfe East. 
Strongrbeart talces a tlioroug-h course in football, and when he arrives at 
OoUunbia he is a crack halfback of the Morningside team. 

The first act is laid in the rooms of Frank Nelson and Dick Livingston, 
also members of the team, Thorne, of the team, is jealous of Livingston. 
In order to plunge the latter into debt, he has wagered with him $3000 on 
the result of the approaching contest, and then plots to lose the game for 
his own eleven, by sending: a list of signals to the rival team. 

Act II is played in the teams' dressing room. Between halves the treach- 
ery is discovered. Strongheart is placed under suspicion and dismissed 
from his team. 

Victory follows, nevertheless, and the curtain falls on a scene of rejoicing. 

The next two acts are devoted more to the love interest in the play. 
Strongheart declares his love for Dorothy Nelson, the captain's sister, and 
learns that while she loves him in return, the prejudice of her family and 
friends give empliatic objections to the marriage. 

Thorne is exposed as the traitor who divulged the signals and just as 
Dorothy and Strongheart have decided to marry despite family prejudices, 
a member of his tribe enters and announces the death of the young man's 
father. 

Black Eagle, the messenger, demands that Strongheart return, assume 
the honor of chief, and discharge his debt to the tribe for the education 
they have given him. 

Wavering between love and duty, Strongheart finally promises to throw 
aside his love a,nd return to his people. 



CRITICISMS 

HERALD-NEW YORK. 

" Strongheart " is a good, strong American play. 

PRE^S-NEW YORK. 

Than " Strongheart " no more satisfying entertainment has been 
vouchsafed to u£ so far this year. 

EVENING SUN-NEW YORK. 

" Strongheart " has dramatic Qualities which are startling and 
true. 

LIFE-NEW YORK. 

There is a delightful atmosphere about " Strongheart." 

HERALD-BOSTON, MASS. 

" Strongheart " is one of the greatest American plays ever written. 

"Strongheart" was played for three seasons by Robert Edeson, and for 
one season each by Ralph Stuart and Edgar Selwyn. The fact that 
almost all the characters are college boys and girls, makes the pre- 
vailing spirit of the play one of youth, and renders it particularly 
suitable to the needs of Amateur Dramatic Clubs and Organizations. 

The Cast ia 17 males and 5 females. Plays a full eveninA* 



PRICE 50 CENTS. 

This play is snbieet to royalty when prodnoed. 



I TBRftRY OF CONGRESS 

mm 

015 940 109 ^ 



